A Season Beyond a Kiss

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  “Tolerably well,” Jeff drawled.

  “An’ that there brother o’ yourn’s, he doin’ all right?”

  “Better than ever. Brandon is going to be a father again in a month or two.”

  “Good for him.” Red Pete chortled and scratched his shirted chest with a hairy hand. “Heard he’d got hisself a right fine li’l gal o’er there in England. Ye settled down, too, kind of?”

  Jeff’s brows lifted briefly in a noncommittal answer. It was that “kind of” which led Jeff to surmise that some word of his present circumstances had reached even out here in the swamps. That was hardly a surprise. In spite of their reclusive lifestyle, Red Pete and his kind had always seemed remarkably well informed about the happenings in Charleston and on the plantations roundabout.

  “I expect you know by now that I’m searching for my wife,” Jeff replied. “Seen anything of her?”

  Red Pete spit a long stream of tobacco juice in the general direction of a tree stump and shook his head. “Not a hair, but I seen Elijah last night. He was trackin’ for ye, he said.”

  Jeff inclined his head in a slow nod. “I sent him out to see what he could find of a horse thief. Is he having any luck?”

  “Reckon so. Said a man named Hyde was on horseback ahead o’ him for awhile, makin’ tracks easily seen, like maybe somethin’ had scared him. Then it looked ta Elijah like the man got hisself thrown ’bout two, maybe three miles from here. The horse run off, an’ Hyde continued on foot, but he ‘peared ta be movin’ kinda slow, like he’d been hurt some. Elijah was stayin’ on his trail.”

  “Good man Elijah. Maybe I’ll come across the mare somewhere up ahead. In the meantime, if you happen to see my wife, I’d appreciate it if you’d persuade her to stay with you for a spell, at least until I can get back this way.”

  Red Pete nodded. “I’ll do my best, Jeffrey. Ye happen ta know if’n she likes corn fritters?”

  Jeff inclined his head in a slow nod. “I believe she has a passing fondness for them.”

  “I’ll make a batch then. She’s liable ta be right hungry by the time she gets back around this way.”

  Jeff sincerely hoped that hunger was the only problem his wife was experiencing after spending two nights on higher ground, the third evening in the swamp, but without elaborating, he thanked Red Pete for his concern and took his leave.

  The marsh closed in around Jeff once again, slowing his pace. The drone of insects increased, as did the heat. He pressed on, pausing only to give Majestic a chance to drink, and then resumed his search. The sun had reached its zenith and began its descent before he finally perceived some hope for his success.

  RAELYNN HAD DESCENDED FROM THE TREE SHORTLY after dawn. She was stiff, sore, and so completely exhausted that she was unable to differentiate between tensed muscles and utter fatigue. She was also very thirsty, but there was only stagnant water to be had, and she had no desire to start heaving up her stomach again. By the time it occurred to her to sip the morning dew that had collected on the larger leaves during the night, the moisture had all but evaporated. She found enough for a swallow or two, but it hardly sufficed. Of food, she couldn’t even bring herself to think. Although there were many plants around her, she lacked the knowledge to discern the difference between those that were edible and others that were poisonous, and she wasn’t about to tempt fate. Hunger wouldn’t kill her, at least not so quickly, but trying to satisfy it just might.

  As the day wore on, Raelynn’s weariness, thirst, and appetite steadily increased. The heavy canopy of trees and twisting vines rising up to lofty levels protected her from the worst of the sun, but the stifling heat made her feel as if she were plodding through thick molasses.

  Just how far she progressed through the difficult maze was a mystery. The vines covering the ground continued to entangle her feet, and she grew increasingly weary of stumbling and falling. The blisters were excruciating. Only by gathering Spanish moss from the lower branches of the trees and stuffing small portions into her stockings was she able to gain some measure of relief from the stinging discomfort. To protect the bones in her ankles and feet from possible breakage, she tore long strips from her petticoat and wound them first about her slippered feet and then up around her ankles. The bandages lent much-needed support, yet in spite of efforts to ease her plight, Raelynn realized she was feeling positively wretched, to a degree she had never experienced before. Weary, footsore, thirsty and all too vividly aware of the burning emptiness of her stomach, she was greatly tempted to dismiss her resolve and just sit down and cry. At the moment, however, her spine was too stiff to yield to any degree of bending, sitting or lounging.

  Raelynn slogged wearily on through the marshes, knowing that if she stopped, she’d likely give up entirely. A gentle wind sprang up, and even in her predicament, she found it refreshing. It certainly kept the mosquitoes at bay.

  In the midst of her despair, the soft nicker of a horse seemed nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Even so, she staggered to a halt and glanced about, desperately praying that someone had come to her rescue, yet fearing her ears had deceived her.

  Sweeter by far than the wafting breezes was the sight of Ariadne lazily nibbling on a distant knoll of grass. Immediately Raelynn’s heart lifted from the dark morass that had threatened to drag her down. She had no idea what miracle had brought the mare into the swamp, but words could not express the joy she now felt at seeing her.

  The mare shook her head briskly to chase away the insects and, for a moment, eyed Raelynn. Unconcerned by the presence of this human, she went back to grazing.

  Cautiously Raelynn approached with a trembling hand extended as she cajoled the animal to stand very still and to please be especially nice. Amazingly, when she reached out and stroked her along the withers, the mare didn’t shy away.

  “Oh, Ariadne, I can’t believe it is you,” Raelynn murmured, her voice choked by grateful tears. “What are you doing so far away from home?” She supposed that if the mare had been able to speak and reason, she might have been inclined to ask her the same question. “I know, Ariadne. We both ran away, and now the pair of us are lost in this infernal bog. I’m beginning to think I was better off where I was. What about you?”

  Ariadne continued chomping on the grass, caring little for human deductions or regrets. Raelynn ran a gentle hand over the horse, searching for injuries, but found no evidence of any that were serious. It was obvious, however, that the mosquitoes and gnats had recently feasted on her. Almost a solid layer of tiny welts had been raised beneath the mare’s coat.

  While Ariadne nibbled contentedly on the grass, Raelynn dragged over a small, broken section of a log to use as a mounting block. Gently patting the mare’s neck, she cajoled her in soothing tones, praying all the while the animal would prove tractable and stand submissively still while she hauled herself astride.

  Surprisingly Ariadne seemed a good sport about it all, but Raelynn hadn’t forgotten Jeff’s reluctance to let her ride the headstrong steed and gingerly settled herself upon the mare’s back. Being without a saddle was strange enough, but sitting astraddle wasn’t very comfortable without some form of cushioning. She twitched, trying to stuff her chemise underneath her to protect the vulnerable areas. Whether her movements disturbed the horse or it was just Ariadne’s temperament to be cantankerous, Raelynn soon learned that Jeff’s misgivings had been well warranted. Without warning, the mare started bucking and crow-hopping in a circle, sending her rider sailing off into a stagnant pool. The putrid collection of water certainly saved Raelynn a few injuries, but she came up retching from the awful stench of it. The only positive thing about having an empty stomach was the fact that she had nothing to heave up. There she sat in total misery, tears and muddied hair streaming down her face, clothes soaked through with stinking slime, and hips and calves deep in fetid muck. At that precise moment, Raelynn was certain she was the very epitome of everything repulsive.

  “Oh, why did I ever leave England?” sh
e moaned dejectedly and began to sob in woeful lament.

  If it served as some consolation, Ariadne came over and nuzzled her hair, but Raelynn wasn’t willing to accept the steed’s apologies without venting a good measure of her wrath upon her. “Get away from me, you ornery nag!” she railed, her voice fraught with tears. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll see you harnessed to a plow!”

  Raelynn considered staying where she was, for it would only cost her more pain if she tried moving, but hunger and thirst were very strong incentives indeed. Wincing, she pushed herself to her feet, slipping and sliding until finally she managed to extricate herself from the stink-hole. Bestowing a baleful glare upon the mare, she caught her by the ear and thrust a warning finger before those large, beautiful eyes.

  “Now listen very carefully, Ariadne,” she ground out through gnashing teeth. “I’m very tired, I’m very lost, I’m very irate with you, so if you have any care for your carcass, you’ll allow me to mount you, and then you will take me out of this smelly swamp. Do you understand me?” The mare tried to lift her head, but Raelynn held her firmly by the ear. “If you don’t mind your manners, I swear, Ariadne, you will become a workhorse, and I assure you, my pretty filly, you won’t like that in the least.”

  Raelynn was sure she was becoming a bit addled, threatening the steed as she was doing, but she really didn’t care. What she truly wanted right then and there was a hot bath so she could take a deep breath without smelling herself.

  Clasping a handful of the flowing mane, Raelynn drew the mare back to the broken log, stepped atop it, and dragged herself once again onto the horse’s back. Clinging to the mane, she waited an interminable length of time for Ariadne to repeat her earlier performance and, after being reassured of the mare’s compliance to some extent, turned her in what Raelynn fervently prayed was the right direction. They walked for a lengthy space before Raelynn allowed herself to relax slightly. Still, she wasn’t of a mind to trust the steed overly much and kept a tenacious grip on the mane.

  After plodding over torturous terrain for untold hours, the luxury of a smooth ride didn’t escape Raelynn’s notice. In spite of her unpredictable disposition, Ariadne had an easy flowing stride, for which Raelynn became most appreciative. She was grateful for several other things which the ride afforded, to be off her feet for one thing, and for another, to be sitting above the brambles and thorns that had relentlessly rent her skin and garments.

  The breezes that had sprung up earlier had strengthened, bringing with them a refreshing coolness that did much to buoy Raelynn’s spirits. For a few moments she even had hopes of surviving her horrendous folly, that is, until she happened to notice that the marsh was becoming progressively gloomier.

  Peering up through the lofty trees, Raelynn felt her heart sink and new fears congeal in her chest. The winds she had briefly relished were pushing ominous thunderclouds across the sky. Even as she watched in mingled surprise and dismay, a jagged streak of lightning tore across the sky. A moment later a stinging rain began to pelt her.

  A groan of despair slipped from Raelynn’s lips as she thumped her heels against the mare’s flanks to urge her out of the punishing downpour. Ariadne responded readily, quickening her pace, but the heavy, wet soil of the bog clung to her hooves, impeding her progress. Their passage was further thwarted by the torrent of rain unleashed upon them. They could barely see, much less move any measurable distance. In barely a fraction of a moment Raelynn’s clothes became so thoroughly drenched that they were soon plastered like second skins to her body.

  There was only one conciliation Raelynn could find in her present predicament. Now she had all the water she could drink. She just hoped she wouldn’t drown in it.

  She peered around for the closest haven and tried to guide the mare toward a closely growing stand of trees, but Ariadne was anxious to escape the deluge and surged forward, only to become mired in soft, boggy peat. Though the mare struggled, she couldn’t pull herself free.

  Unable to believe that she could be so ill-favored by circumstances, Raelynn fought an urge to weep, but the impulse to relent to harsh, anguishing sobs was promptly forgotten as a blinding flash of lightning ripped through the forest, hitting a large cypress a short distance away, the precise area upon which Raelynn had just recently set her sights. The fiery bolt snapped the trunk in half as easily as a dried twig, sending a dazzling spray of sparks flying helter-skelter. Shaken to the core of her being, Raelynn threw up her arms to shield herself from the blinding flares and, in tremulous trepidation, peered over her forearm as the top of the tree plummeted to the ground with a crashing roar, in its rapid descent stripping off many of its own branches and those of nearby trees. Before it reached the ground, a deafening crack of thunder seemed to shake the very ground around them. Ariadne shivered in terror and tried to heave upward out of the bog, but to no avail.

  “Easy, girl,” Raelynn murmured through fear-stiffened lips, astounded by how closely she had come to being permanently singed black by the lightning. If not for Ariadne becoming entrapped, they would have both been killed. “It’s all right, Ariadne. Steady now. We’re alive . . . at least for the moment.”

  The mare calmed a trifle, but stood shivering in the muddy vise. Raelynn hurriedly slid from Ariadne’s back, fully intending to help, but immediately gasped in alarm when her own feet began to sink. Frantically she stretched out an arm, barely managing to grasp hold of a low-hanging branch, and scrambled to more solid footing. It proved tenuous at best.

  Gingerly testing the footing upon which she stood, Raelynn turned on trembling limbs, but her throat constricted with sudden dread when she saw that the mare had been caught in a marshy hollow that had been softened by the rainstorm. It looked as dangerous as quicksand. The more Ariadne struggled to free herself, the deeper she sank.

  Terror swept through Raelynn, as much for herself as for Ariadne. She seriously doubted that she could make it through the thick morass without the mare, and now with the volume of rain coming down, small rivulets were opening up everywhere. Soon they would become life-threatening. Yet, if she sought to help Ariadne, Raelynn knew she could be sucked down into the slough right along with the mare.

  In growing panic, Raelynn glanced about, hoping to espy some way of escape for both of them. She certainly couldn’t hope to pull the horse free, for she had neither the strength nor the wherewithal to bring about such a rescue. She was virtually helpless.

  Suddenly Raelynn recalled the thick vines she had battled. Quite possibly some were sturdy enough to be used to draw the mare out of the bog. Stumbling over the sodden hem of her gown, she searched through the pelting rain for a suitably stout vine and finally stumbled upon a grapevine twining up a nearby tree. She struggled to yank it free, but it was a feat that required every measure of strength she possessed. It didn’t help that she was weak from her lengthy fast and being bombarded by rain. Indeed, by the time she tore the climber loose from the branches, she was nearly spent and, in utter exhaustion, collapsed to her knees in the tiny rivulets forming over the ground.

  Regaining her resolve, if not a full measure of her strength, she rose to her feet beneath the pelting rain and considered how best to go about harnessing the mare to the vine. The roots were still firmly attached to the ground, serving as an anchor, but she needed some further leverage against the weight of the steed. In that quest she wound her makeshift cord around a pair of young, sturdy trees and kept the vine taut to aid her progress as she approached Ariadne, carefully avoiding the ever-softening sump of bottomless mire as she did so. The horse’s fatigue was becoming increasingly evident as her attempts to thrust herself free from the mud declined. Though the realization congealed into a hard lump of fear in her throat, Raelynn had to face the truth of it. If Ariadne’s rescue wasn’t accomplished within the next half hour, the animal would lose both strength and heart. If she gave up, it wouldn’t take long before she would be sucked down into a soggy grave.

  Blinking through the sodden te
ndrils that streamed down her face, Raelynn looped the grapevine around Ariadne’s neck and tied it securely in place with strips of cloth torn from her own skirt. Returning to the pair of trees, she hauled on the vine with all of her strength as she coaxed the mare toward her. Obediently Ariadne heaved upward, allowing Raelynn to wrench her makeshift cord a few degrees tighter about the trees, but the headstrong horse shook her head violently, trying to dislodge the now snug lasso. In the process she nearly shredded Raelynn’s palms as the rough growth was ripped from her grasp. Tenaciously Raelynn grabbed hold of it again and, with sharp tugs, pleadingly beseeched the mare to cooperate. Again Ariadne lunged ahead in an attempt to dislodge herself from the mud, enabling Raelynn to jerk the vine taut once more. In spite of the continuous bombardment of rain, they made progress, enough to hearten Raelynn when she realized the mare was almost out of the miry pit.

  “You’re doing it, Ariadne,” she cried jubilantly. In the pelting downpour, she couldn’t even speak without spitting out rain. “Come on now, girl. Just a few more tugs, and you’ll be free.”

  As if understanding this logic, the mare surged forward again, allowing the grapevine to be wrenched tighter around the trunks, but Raelynn had precious little time to revel in the headway they were making, for, in the next instant, the cord broke against the strain of the horse’s weight, sending Raelynn sprawling backward into a puddle and Ariadne sliding back into her muddy prison. Raelynn scrambled to her feet and, with a cry of defeat, clasped clenched fists to her temples in horror as she watched the mare struggling valiantly to lift herself from the ooze into which she was being rapidly sucked. Ariadne shrieked, sensing her impending doom, and thrashed about, but alas, to no good purpose.

  MAJESTIC’S EARS PRICKED AS HE CAME TO A SUDDEN halt. Jeff shifted the dripping brim of his hat further away from his brow, fully alert to the fact that the steed had heard, sensed, or seen something. Jeff peered through the cascading sheets of rain, scanning the area beyond the trees, but it was heavily shaded by the rainstorm and the dreary grayness of late afternoon. He twisted in the saddle and glanced in every direction, but he saw nothing of any import. Reaching down, he stroked the sodden neck of the stallion. “What’s out there, boy? What spooked you?”